


Don't let the darkness swallow you

by sannidings



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-07-25 15:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7538449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sannidings/pseuds/sannidings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal discovers an unhealthy hobby of Bedelia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This resulted out of a prompt Bedelia-du-badass made on tumblr. Since this is so much more complex than a prompt could be, I decided to make a hole multichapter fic out of it.  
> Hopefully you enjoy this :)

The needle broke her skin in the bow of her arm with ease, not a single drop of blood showing at the fresh wound. The clear liquid shot into her veins and made her world all smooth and fuzzy. Nothing to worry about, nothing to care, no Hannibal and his never ending rants about precious Will Graham. Especially no Will Graham.  
She leaned back on the big plush arm chair, closing her eyes and letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. With half closed eyes her day drifted by, no hunger nor thirst bothering her too much to get up and fulfill her needs.

She knew she had lost weight since her days in Florence, mostly because of the meals Hannibal served and to her self-destroying habits. But she couldn’t care less, she was already dead anyway.  
Sooner or later she would end on Hannibal’s plate and she damn well could make herself a nice ending until then.  
Bedelia fetched herself her half empty bottle of wine and filled her bathtub with hot steaming water. She would waste another day that way but she couldn’t care less.

She wasn’t sure when, but somehow Hannibal was beside her tub, maybe he just returned from work, talking to her. All she was able to hear was a muffled voice, but nothing made sense to her.  
Hannibal recognized her empty eyes, and thought she might have drunken too much wine in combination with the hot tub. The water was already ice cold, but she didn’t seem to notice. He was worried that she would catch a cold so he hauled her out of the tub since she didn’t seem able to move by herself and took her dripping wet body to the bedroom next door.  
He placed her on the comforter of her bed and got back to the bathroom to fetch a towel to dry her up.

Her body shivered against the cold of the bedroom and he turned on the heater before he rubbed her crinkled and soaked flesh dry with the soft towel. Her eyes opened and closed without control and he thought she was drifting in and out of consciousness. He wondered if just wine was able to have such an effect on a human body when he discovered the fresh little hole in her arm.  
His eyes flew open in shock, had she really injected herself something? Hannibal was confused, he knew she liked to drink wine, she ate like a bird and he was not blind, she had lost weight and she looked quite unhealthy but he thought it was just due to the whole situation they were in. Now he worried. And he blamed himself for not noticing or seeing any evidence of her drug abuse before that. 

Hannibal inspected her arm for further wounds and found a lot more. There were a bunch of tiny holes in her arm, what was enough evidence for him that she consumed that stuff nearly every day.  
Hannibal kneeled in front of her bed and watched over her. She was out cold, there was no reaction of her pupils and she was as limp as the towel in his hands. He had checked her vitals, her pulse was steady but low and her breath was flat. He had seen her sleeping like this many times before when he checked on her when he came home late and just thought she had a deep sleep. But now, seeing her like this he should have known that something wasn’t right the whole time.  
He fetched a woolen blanket from under the bed to cover her, he wouldn’t risk for her to catch a cold. Hannibal stood and walked over to the big window in the master bedroom, a room she only used for herself since he had made the study with the daybed to his chamber. The view over Florence was remarkable and far better than from his room. Hannibal stood in front of the window, thinking, until he came to the conclusion that he had to help Bedelia. She was his wife, if only in name and for their act, but she was his responsibility while in Florence and he felt protective of her. 

He had often experimented with drugs with his patients when it came to open up their minds, but seeing Bedelia like this made him wonder if they had experienced a similar state. Hannibal never dealt with withdrawal of a drug addict, as he already called her in his mind. He despised her for her weakness for her carelessness towards herself and her body. He couldn’t understand her motives. How had he not seen or noticed?  
And than it hit him.  
He hasn’t recognized anything because he was too occupied with Will.  
He decided it would be best to find out where she kept her drugs hidden and destroy them so she couldn’t destroy herself further.

She had slept until the late morning, as always when she had her fair share of her favorite wine in the bathtub. This time as she woke up she was a bit confused about her state of undress. Her Hair was messy, she herself was naked and only wrapped in a woolen blanket. She shifted on the bed, her body felt stiff and she had a crick in her neck that needed to be threatened.  
She should have noticed by now that she hadn’t left the bathtub on her own last night, but her mind was clouded and the thought didn’t cross her mind until she was alerted by another presence in her room. Hannibal still stood by the window and she was surprised to see him here at this time of day. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” She slurred the words, noticing to late that the effect of her sedative still was running through her veins.  
Hannibal turned around at her words, they were slurred and still like she was drunk and he watched her lift herself halfway from her bed. She was still naked, the woolen blanket sliding down her chest and stopping just so low on her breast that it was covered.  
She didn’t seem to care about her modesty towards him what made him wonder if she was aware of her state. In any other situation her nakedness would bother him because of their relationship as doctor and patient but the tables now seem as if they have turned.  
His gaze was icy, something she hadn’t seen on him ever since. She hold their eye contact, trying to figure out what was wrong that he hadn’t gone to work this morning. 

“You were out for hours. I couldn’t let you be like this on your own. Actually I took the whole week off. And we have to talk. Get dressed please, breakfast is ready when you are.” He tried to conceal his feelings, his anger and his disappointment, but he knew she must have noticed  
Even in her drugged state she must have sensed that something wasn’t right. His suspicion was confirmed when she came to the kitchen merely 15 minutes later, just a crack of that time she would normally need to get up and get dressed.  
She just wore some yoga pants and her robe over it and didn’t put on any make up, just brushed through her hair and cleaned her teeth.

He had made a light breakfast for her, he didn’t know if her stomach could hold too heavy food. There was some toast with scrambled eggs and a glass of orange juice for her. Silently she sat down and nibbled on the bread, eying him curious.  
“I demand you eat all the contents on the plate and I will talk. This is a serious topic and I won’t tolerate any lies or other excuses. I will talk and you will listen carefully because I do not tolerate this in my presence.” Hannibal gestured to a small box on the table  
“In this box there is everything I could find. Please be honest and tell me if there’s more.” 

Hannibal had looked through everything he could put his hands on, he checked every book, every drawer and each place someone could hide also then tiniest thing. She had been creative, he gave her credit for that. Even under her bed he had found a small vial taped to the bedpost.  
But he was sure he had cleared everything out.  
Bedelia eyed him with such confusion and lack of understanding it was nearly laughable to him. She didn’t seem to get what this was all about until she opened the box. 

“No...” she stammered, loosing her clueless expression and now knew exactly what he was talking about. She had mostly looked at the plate in front of her while Hannibal spoke but now her head shot up, her eyes filled with raw emotions.  
“You.... you can’t! Hannibal, No!” He sensed she was panicking, the reason clear as day to him. He was taking something away that she liked, that she needed and her reaction was telling him that it was far more serious than he had imagined before.  
Hannibal had no mercy for her that day, his night had been sleepless because of her and he hadn’t been able to visit his memory palace where a nice evening with Will Graham had awaited him. 

He took the box out of her hands, she was a lot stronger than he had imagined and he had to struggle to finally get his hands on the box. He threw the whole contents down the rubbish chute and saw the devastated look in her eyes.  
“I took this week off to spent time with you. Your foolish actions require treatment and since I am the only option you have right now you have to deal with me and my methods. I will not tolerate any substance abuse like this in my house any more. We play this game by my rules now. You will eat what I give you. I respect your choice to eat nothing with an central nerve system any more. But otherwise there won’t be a crump left on the plate. I am worried Bedelia. You look and act like a ghost. Look at yourself in the mirror and tell me you like what you see!” he has already talked himself into raging fit so she just let out a small squeal as he dragged her to the master bedroom with his hand so firm on her wrist that it might bruise. 

He placed her before the mirror and ordered her to take off her robe. When she hesitated too long he just pulled it off her shoulders.  
Her pants and her camisole hung loosely on her petite frame, her collarbones were showing more than would be told as healthy. He took her hair carefully over her shoulder and pulled it together at the base of her neck. Her face was bony and he found himself missing her lovely glowing cheeks from their time back in Baltimore when everything was ok. His hand moved to her face and the back of his hand caressed her cheek carefully.  
She closed her eyes, wondering if this was her end now. If he finally decided she was not worth it like Will Graham was.

But he just continued with his soft touch to her face, to her collarbone, over her rips to her hips. Her breath caught in her throat as he gripped her hipbone and drawing small patterns on it with his thump.  
“You could be so beautiful again, like ..like you have been before all that..” his lips touched her ear shell and she shivered at this intimate gesture. Bedelia was not used to such affection, even less from Hannibal. Except one time to consummate their marriage he never had touched her in a romantic way. And even that one was more out of duty than romance.  
Bedelia leaned into his hands, now at both of her hip bones and her back collided with his strong chest. He pulled her towards him and leaned his head on her shoulder. Her own head rested against his chest as well so that his lips touched her naked shoulder as he spoke. “I want my witty psychologist, I want a clear mind to give advices, I want someone to live with, not a ghost floating high like the ceiling.”

He was surprised himself at his confession, at the way he spoke to her, She turned her head to meet his eyes and suddenly there lips were just millimeters apart. Both of them noticed, both of them didn’t dare to move, because neither of them was ready to face what acting on their proximity would bring to them now. “Help me, Hannibal” she whispered to him and circled in his arms to face him completely instead the mirror.  
Her arms looped around his neck and she stood still against him, her bones pressing into his soft body. His hands found their place on her hips again and her breath caught in her throat again.

How was this suppose to work? How could he help her?  
She knew there was a bit of a problem with her liking for the needle but deep down a little voice told her that it was fine when he helped her to live without that. She didn’t hear the voice that moment, but it was already there inside her. She just had to get through to it.


	2. Chapter 2

The first days of her withdrawal were pure pain for both of them. The psychological and physical symptoms of her going cold turkey were taking its toll on both of them. Even when he tried very hard to make her eat, drink and sleep properly her daemons were closing in on her a lot of times. Hannibal supported her as much as possible, he was tired himself, but he wouldn’t let her go through this without someone by her side.  
Her hunger returned slowly, but even now after 5 days she wasn’t able to keep the food down as he would have liked. They had found their routine in the few days, Hannibal made the effort to cook a different soup every day, the only food she could stomach most days, and even baked her fresh bread to serve with the light dinner. Her stomach had its own routine though; most of her nights were spend over the toilet, heaving into the porcelain until there was nothing coming out of her stomach any more. She had send him away each night when he offered to keep her company, when his large warm hand had rubbed her back and held back her hair. She didn’t want this, she wasn’t used to his gentleness and she couldn’t proceed what was happening in their relationship.  
Almost every night she dragged her exhausted self into bed afterwards, waiting for sleep to come. Sleeping was another soft topic they tried to avoid speaking of. She would desperately like to sleep a few hours into the night, but even if she was exhausted and tired sleep wouldn’t come to her. He kept her company then, reading to her or playing the piano to lull her into sleep, sitting next to her until her eyes flutter close.  
She had grown fond of the time they spend together; it eased her cravings and disturbed her mind so it could settle on other things then the urge to put the needle back into her skin.  
When nausea hit the first time she wasn’t prepared the slightest bit. Bedelia was in the kitchen, helping Hannibal cut the vegetables for her soup while he was at the stove, grilling himself a piece of meat she didn’t want to know exactly what it was and where it was from. He talked to her about the components of her meal, about how the added spices would calm her stomach and the ingredients would help her gain some weight again.  
Alarmed by her gasp he turned and just could see her body sinking down on the ground, hitting her head on the counter in that progress. He was at her side in the blink of an eye, checking her pulse and waking her out of her unconsciousness. Bedelia had a small laceration at her forehead, a small cut just above her eyebrow where her head had hit the countertop. He used the apron he was wearing to stop the bleeding, and cleaned the blood away that had tickled down her face and left red strains in her blonde hair. She was still out when he fetched the first aid kit and closed the small gash with a few neat stitches. With a cold washcloth he dabbed the skin of her face, cleaning her up and get her awake again. Her eyes fluttered open a few minutes later, looking disoriented and he could see she would suffer from a slight concussion the following days. She tried to get up but he held her down, explaining to her what had happened. Her fingers itched to touch the fresh wound on her forehead but he swatted her hand away to prevent it from opening up again.  
Hannibal helped her into a sitting position first, figuring out if the nausea would come back or if she was able to stand up on her own. Hannibal steadied her while she tried to get on her feet, her other hand looking for support on the kitchen counter. She groaned in pain and he had to hold her to prevent her from slipping down again.  
“I will take you to bed, Bedelia,” he told her concerned while placing his arm under her knees and carrying her into the direction of her bedroom.  
“You should wait with that until I actually know what you are doing,” she slurred and Hannibal chuckled lightly. Even with a fresh stitched wound and a concussion she was able to make a dubious joke. The old Bedelia was showing and he smiled down at her.  
The good times didn’t last long though.  
It all started innocent, she was tired and slept a lot and so he hadn’t looked at her for a few hours because he wanted her to rest as much as possible. He knew it would become harder for her than this and she needed as much strength as possible. He went to wake her for dinner when he saw in what state she was in. The covers were thrown from the bed and she was lying on her back, breathing heavily. She had shed her clothes and was tossing and turning in bed, just wearing her underwear.  
Hannibal rushed to her bed side, sensing that something wasn’t right. Her skin looked sweaty and when he felt her forehand to see if she was sporting a fever he felt that she wasn’t hot as he had imagined but ice cold.  
Shivers wrecked her body and Hannibal grabbed the covers from the floor to warm her up. Bedelia didn’t seem to notice it was him and instead fought his attempts to tuck her into the warming sheets.  
“Bedelia, it’s me, don’t worry, it’s just me,” we whispered into her ear again and again while holding her still so that she would stop trashing in his arms. His words wavered through the haze of her brain, lulling her in and when she finally opened her eyes he could see she recognized him.  
Her heavy breathing returned to a normal rhythm, and the trashing soon stopped too. The shivers that ran through her body were replaced with the warmth of the blanket around her and his arms that hold her.  
“I am so cold, Hannibal,” she pressed out between her shattering teeth. “Please, it is so cold.” Her shaking fingers pulled the blanket he had placed around her higher up her neck and buried herself in the soft fabric. The shivering didn’t stop though and he got up again to turn on the heater in the bedroom.  
“I will make you some tea, it will warm you from inside.” She pulled the blanket away from her face and with a small voice she spoke to him “Please, don’t go, you… you are warm enough,” he could see a slight blush creep up her face and Hannibal wondered when she had become so vulnerable.  
Hannibal sat down next to her on the bed again and lay next to her on top of the covers. He offered his arms to her and wondered when she snuggled herself to his side. Hannibal placed his arm around her shoulder and looked down at her. “Better this way,” he asked and felt her place her head in his armpit.  
He held her like this until he could feel the shivers stop and when checking her forehead again her body temperature had become normal again. He got up from the bed and made his way into his study to retreat to his own bed. The night had already set while he had supported her and he felt drained off any energy left in him.  
He changed into his pajamas and fluffed his pillow. He was in need for a good night’s sleep for a while now, and welcomed the arms of Morpheus.  
Hannibal was in a deep slumber and didn’t notice the bare feet coming up to his make shift bed in the study. Bedelia was hugged into her blanket, drawn up over her shoulders and secured around her tiny frame with her arms that she had wrapped around herself. She looked down at Hannibal’s sleeping form and pondered if she should sneak into the bed with him. Her body was freezing cold again and she had already tried to warm herself by making tea and turning the heater higher, but to no avail.  
So she had laid in her bed and wondered if it would be appropriate for her to seek him out in his chamber in the early hours of morning.  
She got up again, pulling the sheets around her to keep warm and made her way over into the study. His door was slightly open and she slipped in as silent as possible so she wouldn’t wake him up.  
Bedelia bit her bottom lip and worried about the situation. He could get it the wrong way when he would wake up next to her in the morning. But he had held her, right? And he also had comforted her when she had been down the last days.  
She watched him sleeping for a few more moments when she decided it would be ok to lay down next to him on the covers. She had her own blanket with her and there was nothing wrong with that at all.  
She unfolded her blanket around her to lay down when he stirred in his sleep and turned on his back. She felt like an intruder when she realized it wasn’t just an innocent dream he had. His hand moved under the sheet and she turned her head away in embarrassment. Bedelia wondered who he was dreaming about in such an intense way when he gave the impromptu answer as he moaned the name of the man they had left behind in Baltimore.  
So Will Graham was still in his head and in his dreams, she thought as she made her way out of his study into her bedroom again.  
She felt like he had betrayed her, a foolish feeling, she realized, because they weren’t in any sort of relationship that he could betray her.  
But it hurt nonetheless and she felt the anxiety creeping up on her. What if Will Graham would find them here? Hannibal would choose him over her in a heartbeat, she assumed. Her skin crawled and goose bumps erupted on her body while the thoughts of what might happen poisoned her rational thinking.  
Her nails easily lifted the floor boards even with her now heavily shaking hands. She hoped he hadn’t found out this hiding place as well, hoped there was a single flask left that would ease the fear that crept into her brain. Her hand felt around in the little space that was hidden beneath the wood until her fingers touched the cold glass of the vial and relief flooded her system. Bedelia pulled out the vial, still filled to the brim with the clear liquid and the syringe next to it. With unsteady fingers she pulled a small amount into the syringe, knowing she had to be careful not to waste the last of her most desired distraction. When the needle pricked her skin and she let it slide into her vein she felt like some control over her body came back to her. She was about to push the liquid into her blood when the syringe was pulled out of her arm with force and a hard hand wrapped around her wrist. The needle ripped her skin open and small droplets of blood escaped the small wound in her arm. She looked up, frightened and her eyes directly locked with the blazing maroon eyes of Hannibal. The anger was seeping out of him in waves, and his grip on her arm was so hard she feared he would break her wrist. “What do you think you are doing?” he asked tugging her to her feet on her wrist. Fear was written all over her face but he couldn’t care less this moment. She had still hidden something of her drug, she had lied to him and he knew she had been in his study. He had seen her get out and wondered what she was looking for in his private chamber. He followed her then and watched as she lifted the floorboard, completely unaware of his presence in the doorway. “I ask you: What do you think you are doing? And haven’t I asked you many times if there was still something of this shit hidden in my house? You lied to me Bedelia! You lied directly to my face!” Her heartbeat pounded in her chest and adrenaline rushed through her veins as he hauled her up from the wooden floor and shook her with every word he was throwing at her. He never had yelled at her and especially not like this before, all his calm and calculating manners seemed forgotten and she feared that he would kill her right now. She often had imagined this moment in bad dreams, in moments of weakness she wouldn’t let witness him, the moment of her death. She had imagined it happening differently, that he would have planned something more suited for her but this moment she was certain he would throw all his plans over board to end her right here right now. The look in his eyes was terrifying her beyond words and she feared him more than ever. Her blood run cold and a sob escaped her as his hand shot up into the air ready to strike. She stepped back slightly, waiting for the blow to come with closed eyes as his other hand was still holding her wrist painfully.


End file.
